Eden
by Verdot
Summary: Drabblish shorts featuring different conversations and encounters about the afterlife. Chap 5: Reno. Yuffie. Childish materia-lism.
1. Reincarnation

**. . . Eden . . .**

Her mother told her that death wasn't the end. It couldn't be the end. Life was such a short and frail and terrible thing that there _had_ to be a compensation for it. It made sense.

"Where do you think you'll end up? When you die." she whispered, wide young eyes affixed on his form. He shrugged, all height and order and firmness. Even she didn't know how far he'd gone, how simply unforgiveable these interludes were.

"There's a legend," he replied, looking nowhere, "Where I come from, far from here. You don't really die at all... you just keep coming back until all the sins you've committed can be fixed." Eyes grew wider; her attention was rapt and crushing.

"The same person?" she asked, mouthing the words carefully, "And you remember everything? Like the same Tseng over and over again?" He shook his head.

"Not quite like that," he said, looking at her now, "You remember nothing. You can be reborn as anything, a bird, a fish, a flower... even a little girl." She smiled at being under his gaze. Only sixteen. When did the conversations shift from flowers to a religion he'd tried to forget?

"So you could come back as me then?" she said, like she'd come across a patch of sunlight under the plate, "You won't remember being Tseng... you'd just be me?" He frowned, and shifted his gaze to her garden.

"It would take a lot more than what I'm doing to make that happen," he replied tiredly. He fingered the gun and his side, and wanted to rip it off, it felt so heavy...

"Maybe I'll come back as you," she said, swinging her legs, "But I'd smile more. You look so much better when you smile." The very thing she liked to provoke from him tugged at his lips but never got any farther than halfway.

"I hope not," he whispered, "I hope you never have to die at all, Aeris."

"Why is that?" she asked, craning her neck to catch his face.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, staring off into the gray, "I didn't say anything at all."

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AN: Now, I heard the song "Eden" by Sarah Brightman and this story just popped out of it. I have an idea of continuing with this theme, but with other characters. A good/bad sort of thing too. So, ya. I needs to stop the muses! 


	2. Nihilism

AN: Editified... cause it didn't feel right, and T. Pirate is my OOC detector. Really. Less talking, and the heaven comment deleted. I think it has more impact now.

* * *

He'd heard it all. When the world is ending slowly, people like to invent fairytales. Like heaven. All that remained now were the ruined churches, only good for housing the scattered soulless and homeless that were bound to wander under the plate. Cockroaches.

It didn't matter what you did in life; all you had to look forward to was a long dark rest. Nothingness. Smart people called it Nihilism.

Her stance was aggressive, but more defensive than offensive. He'd caught her alone, for once, without the entourage of plate rabble she always seemed to be with. Yes, he'd seen her before. No, he didn't notice her before.

"Stay back!" she shouted, adjusting her weight, "Don't come any closer!"

"I am not here to harm you," he replied, holstering the gun he automatically had in his hand. She didn't change her stance.

"Shinra, huh?" she said with a snort, "What're you here for, then?" She'd seen enough blue suits to know who they were; she'd seen enough death to know when to fight. Better to defend than be caught by surprise... that's what Barret often told her.

"If I were sent here to kill you," he countered, "You would already be dead." He didn't talk with people often, but this girl-no, woman-was getting smart with him. He had enough of that with his own kind.

She blinked large brown eyes at him. It was then that he noticed the red in them.

"Wh-what?" she stammered, losing a bit of her defense for a moment. He stayed silent.

She thought that all people were essentially good, though she hated some. Her place in Heaven was never guaranteed... she still had a lot more to do. She had just sworn to fight injustice... Shinra. He wasn't nice to her, but he wasn't... trying to kill her. Where did the black and white go? Just who did he think he was?

"You're not from Midgar," he said, and relaxed his stance further. He thought her a child. But she didn't look like a child. He couldn't help but notice that, she didn't look like a child at all. Except the eyes.

They were staring at him, fazing through all her confusion. Her stark black and white morality was so shaken, so shaken by this stranger-enemy who wasn't accustomed to talking.

"What's your name?"

He had turned to go; satisfied that he'd just shaken another little girl's faith. Another introduction into Midgar. Maybe he would see her later, somehow that was an interesting idea.

"Rude."

"I'm Tifa," she answered, still aggressive, "Tifa Lockheart."

That was the first mistake.

* * *

AN: I often wondered why Rude liked Tifa out of all the girls. Seemed like every guy had a thing for Aeris. Anyway, there are two themes to this collection of short (not longer than two pages, I need practice in brevity). First is religion, I think every character has a basic idea of one; second is good guy/bad guy relations, romantic or not, but not necessarily hatred. Black/white and mixing around. Blah, anyway, this note is too long. 


	3. Genuflection

He had paused in his work for a moment. The rhythm of his work was something he didn't like interrupted; a silent prayer to an idle god.

Oh yes, he believed in God. Someone in his line of work couldn't afford _not_ to.

"Sorry, doctor," she said, and he could now focus on the slight shadow falling across the centrifuge. There always seem to be a halo with her shadow, the way that her slightly frizzy hair captured the phosphorescent light.

"What is it _this_ time, Ms. Marron?" he said tiredly. Monks used to kneel in the wings of great cathedrals for days, hoping for that one glorious moment of insight from the Divine.

"You need a break, doctor," she whispered, faint feather touches of voice. Her mother had told her she never prayed fervently enough, never understood what the glorious _savior _would do for the world. She had to embrace the wrath... embrace.

"You of all people," he uttered hoarsely, like something grated in the back of his throat, "You should know. Losing faith, assistant?" He knew her name, and she frowned at that. She was still so young, and so was he. She knew he would age to be hunched and ugly if he kept this up.

For now, Doctor Hojo was frighteningbeautifulmadness.

"Then let me do something," she said, on the last end of her generosity, "Let me take some of the workload." She was simply bored and wanting approval so much...

He closed his eyes. Is this what he'd been sent? The visions would not come; he'd been kneeling for years, and years, and years...

"Maybe later," he said, stiff and formal, "You can go now, Ms. Marron. Your shift is over." She glanced at the clock, startled by the way he knew the time without even looking. She barely made any noise as she exited the lab.

His smile startled even him. It was getting harder to contain his grin these days.

"You may be the lovely mud..." he whispered, going back to his genuflection, "...Lucrecia."

* * *

AN: Hojo's last line is inspired by the movie "The Ten Commandments"... yes, silly me. I love old movies. 


	4. Dreams

"I don't believe in those things."

He was so untouchable, with that young attitude of his. He himself wasn't so old as to feel quite mortal yet, but this _boy_ was something else. And he was never afraid to say anything.

All the other soldiers were sitting around, staring in awe at their leader. He'd effectively cut the comment from the SOLDIER with the dark spiky hair with a simple quiet sentence.

"Then what the fuck are you fighting for?" he asked, still not used to the officer's tent, just having been promoted the day before. Captain.

The cold green eyes were on him. Had he been older, wiser, he would have shit his pants.

"Who are you?" the General demanded. Never questions. Demands. There was a young, though older than him he suspected, arrogant fool who was going to be put in his place. He would have smiled if not for the worthless peons that surrounded him. He didn't need to be thought mad and have them all rebel against him.

"_Captain_," he said, still savoring the taste of it on his tongue, "Highwind. Air Corps." The face didn't change in expression, not a silver hair rustled. It was then that Cid noticed that everyone had stopped breathing.

"Then pray tell, _Captain_ Highwind," Sephiroth replied, voice deep and menacing for someone so young, "What do _you _believe in that would make this fight worthwhile?" Well-spoken, he'd been trained to always sound _above_ them. And the twitching in the back of his mind was making him begin to believe. He'd make an example of this one, perhaps.

Cid didn't like his attitude. His superior, yes, and someone who could slice him in half... but there were just some things he couldn't let pass. He had men under his command now; he had to give them _something_ to fight for.

"Dreams," he said, simple and to the point. He was feeling pretty brave for the moment... he didn't know how long it would last.

The General stared hard at him, and no one moved. It was a standstill; far past wills at this point. Blue and unnatural aqua green summed up their positions all too poetically.

"Go and dream then," Sephiroth snarled, bringing his attention back to the large map on the table. A few men towards the opening of the tent stirred, and slowly it became a hive of activity. There was a war on after all.

Cid walked out, his left hand shaking slightly as he dug for his cigarettes. He'd only just recently picked them up... and if there was ever a time he needed them...

"Dreams," the General whispered, before barking orders to a very nervous Corporal nearby.

* * *

AN: Here's an example of something I do NOT want interpreted as a pairing (not that the others were pairings...). Unless you really get into Seph/Cid... o.O This came out because... heh, I got frustrated a while ago. I hijacked Cid for my purposes... 


	5. Materia lism

Lights. They were blinding and beautiful and terrible...

_For the moment. _

He didn't really have a philosophy per se; he'd simply lived from moment to moment. Day by day. Hour by hour. Philosophy was for people that had time for such a thing. For those who believed in tomorrow.

Reno had learned that tomorrow was a fucking pipe dream. No better than a fairy tale.

"Do you do this all the time?" she asked, childish wisdom nearly suffocating. He'd never known an establishment that let _children_ in. Especially a place of such ill repute.

"What the hell?" he asked to no one in particular, least of all the small Wutain that had questioned him earlier. Still was questioning him, judging by the look she threw him.

She'd seen weirder people than him pass by. It was that red hair that drew her attention, and his increasing uneasiness around her. For a child her age, avoidance was an automatic interest. Young wasn't curiosity; young was interest. Pure and unadulterated interest.

So, for Yuffie Kisaragi, to be brushed off was to practically be invited in. She'd seen enough dark haired and secretive men in her time as the "lady" of Wutai. Red hair in and of itself was interesting. Avoiding her constant questioning and her very presence made him worth more than the sharp and shiny objects she'd increasingly become interested in.

"Don't ya have someone else to pester?" he asked, feeling just a little too buzzed to realize that it was bait for a child. A child in a bar of all places. He'd find something immoral about it... except that'd make him one damned hypocrite. Damned was enough for the moment.

"No," she answered stubbornly, small hands placed on hips, "Dontcha look past your big nose?" She wasn't debating with him; she was lonely. He didn't have time to baby-sit some stupid Wutain kid who hung out in bars.

He figured something shiny might distract her long enough to pay for his drink and go back to the hotel room and sleep. He fiddled around in his pocket, to find something he might not mind parting with. The green orb hadn't even been mastered yet, wouldn't be worth more than ten Gil on the street.

He tossed it to her before slamming some more Gil down. It had been a hard day.

Her eyes gleamed as she turned the orb around in her little hands. It was the prettiest thing she'd seen... and she wondered momentarily why her great father didn't have any of them around for her to play with. Maybe she just needed to learn the name, and she would understand its secrets and maybe get past her father to get some more...

"It's called Materia, kid," Reno said quietly before taking a sip of his drink, "some heal, some harm; all have some value." He didn't quite know why he felt like explaining it, but sometimes the philosophical parts of his brain begged to be unleashed, begged to get past the moment to— no more drinks after this one.

"Materia," she whispered, letting the word melt in her mouth.

* * *

AN: This has been sitting on my computer, sans ending two paragraphs for quite some time. Silly me. XD  



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